


Maybe

by Pilux



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Defias, Original Character(s), SI:7, Stormwind Stockades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 15:42:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20659637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pilux/pseuds/Pilux
Summary: A drabble with some backstory and other stuff with my WoW toon, Cameron, an SI:7 agent with ties to the Defias Brotherhood. He's snuck into the stockades to visit his parents in between assignments.





	Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> Prayer circle that the formatting doesn't eat the formatting.

The deeper tunnels of the Stormwind Stockades with its musty and stale air was where you went when you were to be forgotten. Most of these cells were empty; or, one could argue that there was so little hope left in anyone who was stuck here, that all the cells were empty. The torches survived the stagnant halls only because a clever or perhaps lazy guard years ago, thought to have the flames enchanted to stay burning. That way, no one would never have to look to see if any needed relighting. Occasionally, yes, a guard or two would patrol these halls. Usually, if they were avoiding some other duty, wanted some peace and quiet, or actually remembered that there were people back there who needed to eat. Sometimes, though it happened not as often these days, the smell of death would linger in the halls, wafting into the cells of those who had the misfortune of still being alive. Thankfully, this was not one of those days, and the air smelled instead of dust with a dampness that lingered in your chest with every breath.

Cameron knew every corridor by heart. He had to. Working for the city like he did, understanding every passage, every nook, every hidden secret was part of being an agent. This, plus the ability to stealth past most people was significant not only in helping to keep the city safe but to sneak into places where he didn’t belong. However, if caught, Cameron could easily argue that as an SI:7 Agent, he had every right to occasionally patrol the Stockades without needing to announce himself beforehand. Though thus far, he never needed to use that excuse, nor did he ever plan on needing it. In fact, he was so confident now about never being caught back there, that the moment he moved past the area of the Stockades that held the rowdiest, most well-known prisoners, he would come out of stealth and saunter down the corridor as if walking into his own home. What did it matter if one of the forgotten prisoners saw him? Who were they going to tell? Even if they pulled aside any guard that walked by, Cameron would either be long gone. That of course, was also assuming any guard that was told would actually care enough to question it.

"One of these days…“ He would think to himself at the same right hand turn every visit, ”I’m going to find the key that works on these cells, and I’m just going to let everyone out.“ Cameron wasn’t terrible at picking locks, he was quite good at it, just like most other rogues, but no matter what he did, no matter how many times he tried he couldn’t get any of these cells open. A mystery he wanted to solve, but not one he could easily ask for help with.

Eventually, his routine future promise to no one but himself was once more broken upon reaching his destination. There was nothing different about this cell’s appearance, it looked like every other cell in the block. Stubborn bars that were wide enough for an arm to squeeze through lit only by a couple of torches on the wall across from the cell door. This was when Cameron would pull back the blue leather hood with the attached golden, bird-like mask to reveal his messy brown hair and young, freckled face. This undramatic reveal was always how he announced himself, even though it couldn’t possibly be anyone else.  
"Is it Tuesday already?” The words fell out of his father’s mouth with a deep, slow drawl. “Could’ve sworn you were just here. Guess time is just gettin’ all muddled now.” His father scooted closer to the bars, too tired to stand today. Cameron kneeled and grasped the bars, giving them a ritualistic tug in hopes they’d rusted through.  
"Nah. It hasn’t been a week. I managed to sneak in a bonus visit this week.“  
"It ain’t Winter’s veil already is it?” His Dad joked with a deep laugh.  
"Pffft. No. It’s just my birthday. And I decided that what I wanted was to see you both.“  
"Happy birthday, baby bird. Our gift to you is that you didn’t find us dead.” His mother called out from the back of the cell. Tired, dirty. Her left shoulder was pressed against the wall as her head used the masonry as a pillow, staring out ahead as if somehow the other wall would provide a miracle despite all hope having been long lost.  
"You wastin’ a birthday in here?“ His Dad snorted. "Don’t you got friends to go an have fun with?”  
Cameron didn’t answer, he simply pursed his lips together in annoyance before changing the subject.  
"They still have me mostly working the graveyard shift, digging holes. I’m starting to think that’s all I’m good for.“ His Dad scoffed and reached through what little space the bars offered to place a tired hand on Cameron’s uninjured left cheek. Despite the callused thumb that brushed more dirt on Cameron’s face than it took off, the gesture was soft, kind, gentle.  
"We seem to have doomed you to digging holes. And we weren’t even farmers! Though I guess if bein’ an Agent doesn’t work, it’s a good skill for real cemetery work.”  
Chhk. Chhk. Chhk. It didn’t matter where he dug, dirt always sounded the same. Chhk. Chhk. Chhk. The sound echoed in Cameron’s memories as he stared at his parents. He could see them both. Right there. In the cell. And he could see them back in Westfall. Packing. Hiding valuables as Cameron dug graves for the rest of the family. Chhk. Chhk. Chhk. Chhk. Just a kid, but he made sure every single plot was the right size, the proper depth. They had to be perfect now because there would be no chance to fix them later.

"Yeah. It’s been handy. Really sells the cover I’m just a cemetery worker. Burying other people’s handy work.“ Cameron replied with a snort, his dad answered with a playful wink.   
"Hey. That’s not a bag gig. Knowing where some of the bodies are buried." "It’s just petty people that no one would miss anyway. It’s not like they’re trusting me with anyone important.”  
"Heey. Hey, now.“ Rictor pulled his hand away from his son’s cheek and shook a pointed finger at him instead. "No such thing as an unimportant person. Hey, hey, look at me.” Cameron had glanced away, pretending as if something more interesting was happening down the dark hallway. “Cameron James Trafton. You look at me right now, yer an adult, not a child, so quit lookin’ around for Great father Winter, and look at me.” Cameron puffed his cheeks out before he gave in and turned his head to look his father right in his tired, dark eyes. “Everyone is important to somebody. And those somebodies are important to others, and those others are loved by even more others until all those others stop bein’ strangers you don’t know, and they all start bein’ people you care about.” Rictor poked Cameron’s forehead as if to strengthen the point he wanted to make to his son. "Which is why, whenever you do anythin’ for the SI:7, even if it’s takin’ out a Horde soldier or findin’ out where some mark is just so someone else can kill them; you remember that what you do, will hurt someone else, and that pain will spread and change until it comes right back to you. And don’t think for one moment, don’t you dare think that there aren’t people other than me and your mother who care about you now. I don’t care who they are, and I sure as hell don’t give a damn if you don’t like their company or where they come from, or what their social status is.“ He ceased the forehead poking and resumed shaking his finger at Cameron, who was now rolling his eyes in disgust. Rictor reached through the bars again to turn Cameron’s face and attention back at him.  
"Dad. I don’t want anything to do with Nobles, or Stormwind, or the Alliance or their…war.” Cameron protested with a heavy huff, pushing the memories of Undercity out of his mind as quickly as possible.   
"I know. And I don’t blame you. But our issues lie with a dead King. Look, I’m not tellin’ you to throw out everythin’ red that you own. And I’m not tellin’ you to forget everythin’ that happened. Hell no!“ He scoffed, shaking his head. He pulled his hand away and pointed at Cameron for the third time. "But you need to be damn careful about who you hurt. Be it someone above or below you.”

Chhk. Cameron stuck the shovel in the dirt, having finally finished his grim task. His mother, Isabelle, grasped his shoulder gently as the three of them stared at the graves of the rest of the family. No time for words, no time for flowers, they went back into their home to discover they now had no time to escape. Maybe if the guards had been a little bit slower, or maybe if the house had been a little bit further off the road, they could have gotten away. Maybe the hidden tunnel in the basement could have saved them, a genuine lifeline to live in relative freedom another day. But there was no time to even fantasize that. Despite having her own face slapped into the wooden floor, Cam’s mother started screeching and swearing when the guards dared to shove her only child onto the wood.  
“He isn’t even a TEENAGER you motherless sons of ogres!” She squirmed as her arms were pinned behind her back. “Didn’t know the DAMN ALLIANCE, threw CHILDREN IN THE STOCKADES. You put ANDUIN in there too when he misbehaves!?" Cam was too scared to remember what his Dad was trying to say. Too frightened to remember anything but the pounding headache and the thumping of his heart in his chest. The guards looked at each other, and to their superior. They had their orders, but she was right.

"So. Don’t hurt people, and somehow, also don’t stop being Defias. Is what I’m hearing. Basically.” Cameron rolled his eyes and started to glance up at the ceiling. "That makes absolutely no sense.“ His Dad snapped his fingers in his Son’s face to bring his attention back.   
"The King and the Nobles hurt us. We got angry at him. and Queen Tiffin died instead. Did that solve our problem?”   
"No.“   
"Exactly. And what I’m sayin’ is. If you got a friend, who’s a guard, or a Noble. Who likes you. Sees you as a friend, and you’d like them otherwise if it weren’t for their job or status. All I’m sayin is. Don’t stab them in the back for the Brotherhood, Cam. Doesn’t matter if you think they’re not important. It’ll come back to screw you over. Defend yourself, stand up for yourself. And I get it, y’gonna get orders that you won’t like and will make you feel like everythin’ I just said was a waste or hypocritical or somethin’. Whatever. Just be smart about it. Don’t kill anyone you don’t have to." 

Cam was lifted from the floor and plopped in a chair at the kitchen table. An object that was once the center of a loving family freely eating their meals together was now an impromptu cage. The old, tired captain knelt in front of Cameron, looking up at the boy wearily.   
"Kid. Do you consider yourself Defias?"Rictor shut his eyes, praying Cam would be smart and say no.   
"YES."His heart sank, but Rictor knew if he spoke out, nothing he said would help or change the situation. The captain sighed as he rubbed his forehead, taking a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose. He tried to not think of his own kids back in Stormwind who were roughly the same age as the one who defiantly sat before him.   
"Have you actually done anything, for the Defias? Steal anything? Kill anyone?"Cameron thought about the magic casters. He thought about how the mages could light their targets on fire. Maybe he could do the same thing. Perhaps he could light all the guards on fire, and they could escape. Maybe, if he understood how it worked… 

Cameron fought back the tears as some memories refused to stay quiet.   
"It’s not fair. They said they’d let you out if…and they still haven’t….and.” His Dad waved a hand dismissively with a grunt.   
"The Brotherhood might not be seen as much of a threat any more Cam. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t still people who hate us. Either this is the pain we caused coming right back on us, or somebody with pull doesn’t want you out of the SI:7.“  
"I’m a terrible agent, I don’t know why they’d keep me around. I just mess up constantly. I can’t even do most of the stuff other rogues do. I can’t even use that shadow dance magic dance thing. I can’t stealth without a device. I’ve seen others better than me get kicked out for not being good enough. Why the hell, would they keep you in here, just to keep me with them.” He rubbed his eyes, frustrated and embarrassed at his inability to use real magic. His Dad exhaled slowly with a quiet shake of his head, he had no answers for his son, and he wished desperately he did. Isabelle had quietly crawled over, grasping the bars with her frail fingers and pushed her face right up against the metal. Her eyes were wide as she stared Cameron down.   
"Knowledge is just as valuable as skill. Baby bird, do y'know somethin’ most others don’t? Is it somethin’ that you’re not telling them?“

A lot of answers played through Cam’s mind. A lot of memories presented themselves as possibilities. But two stuck out in his mind the strongest, although he had no idea if they were the correct memories to focus on.  
Cameron thought about the Captain asking questions about the Defias at the dinner table.   
"Do you know the names of other members? Do you know of any hiding places we don’t know of? C'mon kid. I’d rather see you go to a Stormwind Orphanage than the Stocks. Don’t let the crimes of your parents ruin the rest of your life.”   
"You’re already here.“ Cameron glared up at the man. "You already have my parents in chains, you already killed the rest of my family. You already ruined the rest of my life. I’m never forgivin’ you for this.”

Cam thought about the Death Knight who used to be his best friend.   
"You tell anyone. Anyone. About me and what you just found. Your life is not only forfeit, but I will raise you as a mindless ghoul for the Scourge. Have I made myself clear?“ His fingers dug into Cameron’s neck, who nodded frantically, properly scared for his life for the first time. "You’re going to go back, to the SI:7, and you’re going to tell them that it was a false lead. Just a rumor put in place by jealous competitors who had the money to make it look convincing.”   
"Th…That doesn’t mean they’ll stop sending me to Northrend.“Gilzo smiled very sweetly, fluttering his eyes as he took a moment to use his free hand to flip his hair.   
"Then you better pray that if they do. I don’t hear about it. You only go to Northrend if you’re doing something for me. Any other time, and it’s you begging to be killed. Which I’d really rather not do, Cammie. So don’t test me. Please. For your sake and mine, don’t test me.”

Cam shrugged, shaking his head.   
“No. I haven’t dug up any deep secrets. ” His mother stared at him in silence, fully aware that her son was lying to her but unable to fully figure out the truth. She leaned forward to give him a dry peck on his cheek before slipping back to her spot on the wall.   
"I can tell when somebody’s protectin’ somebody else. They better be worth protectin.“  
His Dad looked up at him curiously as Cam tried to find the right words. He started thinking about a lot of people. A lot more people than he wanted to think about. A pain grasped Cameron’s chest as he realized that despite earlier silence implying that he had no friends to spend his birthday with, despite his constant denial every visit that there wasn’t anyone or anything he cared about other than his parents; Cameron started to think of a lot of people he did, actually, give a damn about. He had broken his own rule of not getting attached to anyone. Not just once, or twice, no. He’d gotten a bit carried away, not realizing how attached he had gotten to not just Gilzo, but to Mary. Haleth, Frena. Barnabe. Raam. He even thought Morgen, Moz, and Lauree were fun although he’d never admit to that last one even if his life depended on it. He didn’t want to think about everyone in the Stormwind Guard who never asked for his Agent name and opted to call him Greenie whenever they saw him. And of course, Morrowgrove, who started that trend and whom he accidentally referred to as "Cat-mom” once in front of Gilzo. He thought of a lot of things. Eventually thinking about the promise he made Gilzo again. It wasn’t the worst of his secrets, but it certainly ate away at him but…  
"I…I can’t.“  
At one point, he would have utterly betrayed his promise the first chance he could do it safely. But by the time that opportunity arrived, he’d notice that there was a drastic change in the Death Knight as he slowly reconnected with his family. Cameron grasped the bars and thunked his head against them.  
"I can’t. Break up another family. That’s finally pulling itself together.” He closed his eyes, waiting to be chastised. Instead, his mother called out sweetly. "Honey, that’s nothin’ worth bein’ ashamed over. And if you think the SI:7 or the guard will fuck somethin’ good up just for the sake of fuckin’ it up don’t you tell them a damn thing.“  
But not telling the guard also risked hurting the ones in there that he liked. There was no guarantee they’d be understanding and not do anything about it. His mind started to race about how badly things could go after that, unsure what daydreams were plausible and what were just paranoid delusions.   
Cameron now sat across from the Captain in his office back in Stormwind.  
"Kid. This is what I can do for you. Your parents are going to the stocks. Nothing’s changing about that. But listen. We’ll set bail, we know no one will pay it, but you’ll be someone’s ward where you can grow up in a lovely house and get a proper education. When you’re old enough you can yourself trained up, give your skills to the SI:7, earn some money, you can pay it off that way. Or you can join them in the stocks and spend the rest of your childhood there. ” Cam thought about it. He wanted to say no. But maybe one day, maybe…if he was in the SI:7 if the Defias ever got another chance…..he could help.  
"Fine.“

The rare sound of footsteps quickly snapped Cameron out of his memories. He needed to leave. A silent goodbye as he pulled his hood up over his face and he was gone before the guards walked by.   
"Evenin’ Trafton’s.”   
“Howdy.”   
“Wish I was coming by to say I can finally let you out, but I’m just passing through.”   
“Ha. Yeah. Maybe tomorrow.”   
“Yeah. Maybe tomorrow.”


End file.
